Silicone Lupus

The burdens of youth

24

MAY/16

The adults were here.

They would make the decisions.

They would fix everything.

She should have felt relieved. She should have felt a weight lift. She should have felt happy.
The opposite was true. She’d screwed up big time, and the consequences that were not apparent to her a few weeks ago were exposed starkly in the words of her mother, her father, and her elders. Even still, her pack stood up for her. They argued that the alliance as written was no big deal, that it had given the edge to New Hope.

New Hope needed every advantage it could get her pack reasoned even as the elders of Thunder heart shook their heads in abject amazement and clear disapproval.

She’d agreed with the pack just a short time ago. She’d been the first to say that the safety of the cairn was primary to all other concerns. New Hope had to survive through whatever means necessary. She’d ordered the pack into the alliance. She’d done this.
The raised voices became a confusing noise to her ears.

“It’s no big deal. Right, Whispy?….Whispy?” Jake interrupted her thoughts. He was expecting her to make a call, issue an order. After all, she’d made an admittedly ill-advised and yet highly effective stand against the alpha of their own pack, her own brother, the leader of the Garou. It was how she’d become the de-facto alpha and instantly famous. But that day she’d felt in the right and she had been strong and certain. Even though Alex was the better fighter, smarter, stronger, and was superior in every way, she’d known he could not defeat her that day. She’d been right.

But that was then.

“Hear them out.” Her response wasn’t even a whisper. She could feel all of them staring at her, but she didn’t want to be the center of attention. She wished they’d all quit looking to her. She wished she were invisible. After a beat, the argument continued as though she’d said nothing.

“You alright, Whisp?” Alex’s quiet voice cut beneath the din of a dozen voices debating the course forward. It hit harder than his fists had all those months ago when he’d stood toe to toe with her in the challenge ring. And damn, could he dish out a right hook. Her teeth were still loose in her jaw from the pounding she’d taken. Eating an apple was out of the question. She missed apples.

Whispers On the Wind stared at the barely dried and now thoroughly smudged finger paint her little sisters had painted on her nails a half hour before. They’d laughed, combed each other’s hair, and played with dolls. That had felt right. For a bit, she was a girl again. That was what she was, not some leader, not some warrior. Rather than answer Alex, she looked to the mother who barely acknowledged her and then to the father who had been forced to take her in. Neither of them gave her a glance as their attentions were focused on her brothers Jake and Moe. It was clear once again who the legitimate children were. No one much cared for bastards, after all.

She’d been expected to be an adult, a leader. But she was really just a girl with pink polish on her fingers and straggly braids made by her younger sisters in her hair. She’d failed them all, and now the elders had to pick up the mess.

She could feel the beast within her rise up, but this time it was just telling her to leave. They wouldn’t even notice. “Don’t say a word. Just slip out the door.” She followed its silent howl.